


One More Year

by XxTwistedEverAfterxX



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 15:05:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2697347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxTwistedEverAfterxX/pseuds/XxTwistedEverAfterxX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Student exchange and studying abroad doesn't always go well or pass through smoothly with educational institutions. Sometimes they make it difficult, and Alfred's discovering this the hard way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One More Year

**Author's Note:**

> I got a sad little email that's not making me feel too good, and I'm really too ashamed of myself and upset to really talk to anyone about it, or tell my parents or friends, but I needed a healthy little vent. University woes and me feeling really homesick for Tokyo resulted in this. It's not much of anything; just a little bit of AmeCan writing to make me feel better, reassure me it's all okay. I think writing this fic helped me a lot though! I can breathe a bit easier without a lump in my throat, so, I think maybe I can believe my own words a bit better now. Smooches once again!

"Mattie?"

The voice was so soft that Matthew had hardly heard it, thought he'd simply imagined his name being called, but the tone was so sad and achy that he grew concerned immediately and sat up straighter. If he had imagined his name being called, then it would have been in a happier tone, or sensual, or desperate and wanting spoken between the breath of a moan, not this way where it sounded like the voice would crack and soft sobs would replace it.

"Alfred?" he called out, frown pressing his eyebrows down, turning his head to look back from where he sat in the kitchen working on taxes, waiting a few moments before slinging his arm over the back of the chair, craning his head further, "Al, I'm in the kitchen! What's wrong?"

The silence was heavy, and Matthew gave only a second of pause before he stood up, pushing his glasses further up his nose and walked out to the living room, looking about. Alfred was being abnormally quiet. He had been for almost half an hour now, and that in itself was odd. The television was off, and even their old radio was lacking the usual crackling as a type of background noise. Pausing in the centre of the silent room, Matthew looked about, turning on his heel and moving quickly towards the bedroom.

"Alfred?!" he called out, voice more urgent, heart picking up beats in his chest—an extra beat, two extra beats, anxiety grasping his heart and squeezing it harder and faster.

Throwing open the bedroom door, Matthew found Alfred sitting at the desk, shoulders hunched and staring at the computer screen. Blue eyes remained fixated at one point, having only twitched as the door slammed open so suddenly, but the American didn't move from his spot.

"Al…?" Matthew pressed, cautious, stepping into the room, shutting the door behind him, "Al, what happened?"

Alfred's head lowered, his hand lifting to remove his glasses, and without the reflective light catching off the lenses, the glittering tears in his eyes were easily seen only moments prior to them being wiped away by the American's fist.

"I just got an email from my college back in America," he explained, "The university here in Quebec sent my transcript to them."

"Well that's good, eh? They were meant to receive it almost a month ago now, right?" Matthew replied softly, stepping closer, eyebrows still drawn tight, "You've already sent emails asking if they'd gotten it so you could forward it to your faculty for graduation, didn't you?"

Alfred nodded, sniffling, smearing more tears away, keeping his face covered, though it wasn't hard for the Canadian to see the redness or the blotchy smears of tear streaks. How long had he been sitting here crying while Matthew had been in the other room, so focused on the mathematics of bills and taxes to realise it was unnaturally quiet?

"I can't graduate."

Matthew blinked, stopping just behind the American, tilting his head.

"Why not? I thought you were due to graduate in July? How do you know you won't? They'll send you an email by the tenth of June saying whether you can or can't. It's only April still," he murmured, trying to soothe, placing a hand on the other's back, rubbing softly, "What makes you so certain?"

"My transcript… It… I don't have enough credits… I failed some subjects and I don't have enough. I just worked it all out myself with the information I had before," Alfred whispered, voice crackling and wobbling, doubling over his keyboard, elbows resting before him and face hidden in hands, glasses hanging from between his fingers by the legs, "I can't graduate. I'm a failure… I was  _so close_."

Matthew's expression softened, listening as soft sobs began to fill the room, leaning down and wrapping his arms around Alfred's shoulders, placing his chin on the other's hair, looking over his head and at the screen where the transcript took up half of the screen, and the other half was a word document full of calculations, course codes, totals and dates. Alfred really had worked it out, sat there and researched each course's credit worth, and judging by the other PDF files, he'd opened up every previous semester's results to compare and add calculations, opened up his university's home page to look up how much he needed for his degree…

"Don't worry. Just study another semester. Take the time from now until then to study in advance, read everything ahead, memorise it all so that when you get to class next semester, you won't be so stressed," Matthew assured softly, "It's okay, no big loss. You got some great experience here, and you did really well. The classes were all in a language that's not your mother tongue, so of course it'll be a bit hard. You've only been studying French for two years before you came here."

"Yeah, but I wanted to come back faster… I got a good job offer here, and I like it here, and I'm happier too… I can't… I just wanna come back here faster, I can't keep studyin' anymore, I'm so tired," Alfred choked out, sobbing softly, "I thought I'd done really well. I thought I'd passed a lot more than this. What if I have to do another year?! What if they kick me out?! How will I get my degree so I can get my Work VISA to come back? I can't come back without a degree!"

"It's all okay, just do one more year if you need to," Matthew assured softly, smiling and pressing a kiss to the crown of the American's head, "It's okay. Lots of people fail. It doesn't make you a failure, especially if they invited you for an honour study before you came on exchange here. I'm sure they won't kick you out for failing some subjects. At most, maybe they'll just take you in for an interview to find out the reasons, and, well, you just explain… It was tough in a new country with no friends, nothing familiar, and all in a language that's not your native tongue. You did really well. Just re-take what you need to. You'll be done before you know it."

Alfred lifted his head, tears smearing his face as he pointed to the computer screen almost aggressively, sobs sounding.

"What do I tell my parents? They gave me plenty of money to support me here, and I let them down. What now? I'm so embarrassed!" he choked out, "I'll be miserable until I can come back! I can't go back to that old life when I'm happier here like this—I got fit here, I ate healthier here, I had my own place and things were goin'  _so well_ … I don't wanna leave…"

Matthew sighed, shifting around to slide into Alfred's lap, cupping his cheeks, lifting his head and softly kissing his lips.

"It's okay. You're smart, you'll be okay," Matthew said firmly, his tone giving little room for argument, "Just another year at most, that's okay, but then you'll be back. Like I said, you have time to study before next semester, so get ahead. You can do it, don't worry. I believe in you. You'll have all of your old friends for the next year, and I'm sure they'll be happy to see you. You can get a job in the meantime and earn money so you have some saved up for your plane ticket and the next home you live in that isn't a student apartment. Think of how great it will be next time."

Alfred sniffled, burying his face in the Canadian's neck who smiled softly, hugging him and rubbing at his back.

"Come on, this isn't something to get so worked up about. You're so smart. I'm proud of you. Let's go do something you like. There's no point in sitting about doing nothing. We'll take some time to relax, take deep breaths, and then we can work out what you might have left to do, choose your subjects for the next semester, and start studying early. We can do this," Matthew assured, pressing soft butterfly kisses along the American's cheeks, wiping away the tears with his thumb and backs of his fingers.

The American was quiet for moments longer, staring down at the screen, looking like he was ready to work himself up more before his arms wrapped around Matthew's waist, tugging him close and pressed a firm kiss to his cheek in return.

"I like it when ya say 'we'…" he muttered, voice a little hoarse as he tried to hold back the tears, taking in another deep breath, calming down steadily.

"Of course I say 'we'," Matthew breathed, chuckling, carding his fingers softly through the American's short hair, "You're not alone through this."


End file.
